If you were to ask me, as a parent of older kids, "What do you believe has been the MOST effective aspect of your parenting style?" I would need to be allowed some time (at least 48 hours) to be able to verbalize a coherent answer...BECAUSE TEENAGERS...and then...after thinking about it for 72 hours more...I would have to say...HUMOR!

What I've lost in patience, my funny bone has grown exponentially, over the years, but NOT as much as my improper grammar usage <---- although, I nailed this run-on sentence (the misplaced modifier was unintentional) and my over use of comma splice is stellar, yo!

Yesterday, our oldest had a doctor's appointment to discuss an issue that could've been much MUCH scarier (turns out, it's not as serious as we first thought, THANK GAWD!) and she asked me if I would go with her...you know...for moral support, because (raising four kids, and all four of their grandparents now dealing with a plethora of health issues, as well) I'm good with waiting room banter.

"Phew, what's that smell?"

Although I was asking the wrong person, because our oldest daughter has a terrible sense of smell, I really didn't need any validation -- hello, my name is Liz and have you seen the SIZE of my nose?

A few minutes pass, and my daughter is doing her best to pacify my insisting the whole room MUST smell what I'm smelling!

"THERE! You smell it now?"

I also have a bad habit of thinking out loud.

"I don't smell anything."

Now, I'm beginning to doubt myself, because the smell sort of comes in waves. I start stealthily sniffing myself. Nope, not me.

"Honestly, it smells like poop!"

I begin to look around the waiting room that is now filled with soon-to-be Moms, remembering how everything smelled absolutely awful when I was pregnant, I mean they HAVE to smell what I'm smelling!

"Maybe it's just my imagination."

THERE IT IS, AGAIN!

"Okay, you guys HAVE to smell that!"

[sound of crickets, chirping]

Clearly, these poor women are not accustomed to waiting room banter, but a couple of trips to the pediatrician should ease them into it, nicely.

Or maybe I need to add "phantosmia" to my ever-growing list of weird crap my body has been going through, literally, lately?

OH WAIT, then I remembered the woman who walked by us with her little boy to use the bathroom.

"I'm going to go check the bathroom."

AH-HAH!

I walked up to where the receptionist was sitting, knocked on her window and whispered, "Someone left a soiled diaper in the bathroom," to which EVERYONE chimed in:

So, THAT'S what that smell was!

Ohhhhhh man, NOW I SMELL IT!

I was trying to breath through my mouth!

Smells like that kid has a healthy appetite!

And my favorite, being:

"OMG! I thought maybe it was "our" imagination."

Moral of the Story: Never underestimate the power of our olfactory receptors, because we Moms are bound to become the collective brain trust of bad smells!